Ven Moonslayer in: The Anvil Caper
by BIG410
Summary: A grizzled, veteran adventurer decides to take up a life of crime, how hard could it be?  Based on a True Story...really!


Ven Moonslayer in... The Anvil Caper

The age of 55 is not usually the time a man embarks on a new career, but Ven Moonslayer was not that type of man, so when a man dressed entirely in the darkest shade of black Ven had ever seen accused him of murder, his life would change in a totally unexpected way.

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Ven, his old bones weary, was tired. A long day roaming underground passages in search of powerful artifacts had taken its toll. This particular cavern was filled with a tribe of bandits, all related, all living here in what could only gracefully called a warren. Their attacks seemed to come from everywhere, from small torch lit rooms to the darkest corridors where the assailants must have every contour of the cave memorized from years of habitation. Fortunately for Ven, their martial skills were no match for the power of _Apohsis_, the incredibly powerful magic staff that had become Ven's iconic piece of equipment, even more so then his enchanted apron.

So when Ven found a rudimentary cot in a quiet corner of the new bandit tomb he closed his eyes and went to sleep. It would not last long….

…The feeling that someone is watching you never goes away. And when you discover that someone was standing over you while you slept, you can't imagine ever sleeping again.

The strange man wore a cloak of the deepest black, he was so pale and thin it must have been enchanted if only to keep it on his frame. He began to speak in an eerie tone that Ven felt before he heard. He called a Ven a murderer and presented without pause an offer to join him in the celebration of wanton death. He then waited for a reply, Ven offered one.

"That's a very nice cloak you're wearing."

With an agility that defied his age, Ven kicked up _Apohsis_ into his hands and dispatched the creepy death-worshipper with three quick bolts of staff energy. The man had barely drawn a small dagger of his own before he fell.

Ven shook off the last of his sleep as he relieved the pale man of his possessions. He had killed this man who was pleased that he had killed someone else for accusing him of killing…someone else. Ven literally shook his head to relieve himself of this tangled rhetorical notion. _Thoughts like that are the reason there are philosophers and drunks_, "and why those people are generally one in the same," he finished out loud.

He was right about the cloak, something told him that he could move anywhere with this thing on, and it gave Ven an idea.

It was in Ven's nature to reinvent himself. In his long life he had been a baker, a messenger, an archer, a merchant, a bartender, a solider, an adventurer, and now a wizard. _Why not a thief?_ _It would be different, and a challenge, _he thought.

Ven knew that there _was_ such a thing as the Thieves Guild. He was too old to be fooled by the stories of beggars, and not naive enough to think that in a land that even goblins could be organized, that some kind of crime cabal couldn't also exist. Joining up could no doubt provide some vital protections against some of the negative outcomes a life of crime could produce. _The problem is getting their attention, _he thought_, I'll have to find a way to make a splash. Something big, something grand, something…royal._

Ven had been to the castle in Anvil several times before in his previous career incarnations. He knew the public areas were lavishly appointed and had seen the signs that they weren't exactly eating off of wooden plates behind closed doors. The lady of the castle herself was never seen without some sort of refinement. It was never clear if she was single, divorced or widowed, but she wore such an array of necklaces and rings one would think the late Emperor himself was courting her. _That reminds me_, Ven thought, _I_ _ought to get this thing to Weynon Priory…maybe later_.

_Ok_, _if I'm going to do this right, I'm going to have to be smart about it,_ Ven was sitting on the lip of the castle's well, watching people (and guards) come and go_. I could probably take everyone of the guards out, and just grab stuff at my leisure_, he posited, tapping his staff gently on the well's stone base, giving off a shower of blue sparks, _but that's not the point of being a thief. Besides who knows how many other creepy death worshippers there are out there, lurking at bedsides. _

Realizing that he was now wearing that man's cloak send a twinge of revolution thought Ven's mind. It was quite the item, but it would never not be creepy. He felt a little colder then usual, and not because it was already late Frostfall. He was carrying a lot less to warm him up now since he decided to ditch most of his gear to make his movements stealthier.

After a couple of days puttering around the castle and its grounds, Ven had a good idea of where the guards were and what times everyone moved around. There was a window at about seven at night that the man who guards the stairs leading to the private quarters leaves his post to escort the Countess to the dining room. Right then it would be a straight shot up to the castle's inner sanctum and who knows what. It was his best chance, time to make it happen.

The castle closed to the public at six, so around 5:45 Ven found a quiet corner of the throne room and vanished from view. He had previous enchanted a pair of rings and a necklace that would give him the ability to nearly disappear, a trick that would have come in handy a few times in his youth.

When the call came to clear the hall for the day, Ven immediately hunched down to make himself a smaller target to notice, and realized that as an old man, crouching came with a gasp of pain. He saw a nearby guard turn his head and looked to see what had caught his attention. _He's looking right at me_, Ven thought, _great start so far "master thief_."

The guard moved a few steps closer, but Ven held steady. Being cloaked in magic and darkness ended up working and the guard dismissed his notion and moved off. _If this goes off as planned, he's not telling anyone about that tomorrow._

Up the stairs like a ghost, Ven was soon eye level with the keyhole of the locked door to the castle's private quarters. _No guards on this side…must be one on the other side, _he thought_, but first to get through this door_. Ven pulled out of his robe a special item he had been saving, an enchanted lockpick made from the finger bone of a long dead god. In a few seconds the door popped open. _This thing works great, _Ven thought_, and all I had to do to get it is do a favor for the dark lord of a hell dimension, I'm sure that's never going to come back to bite me in the ass or anything._

Ven slipped inside and closed the door gently behind him. He was now, officially, a criminal. He had committed the high crime of trespassing and was owed a fierce wrist slapping by the forces of justice! _Let's see if I can top myself_.

The door Ven used opened into a small vestibule along a wide hallway. Across a red and black carpet was another door. More pertinent was the right side of a guard's body as he leaned against the vestibule's exiting arch. He didn't see or hear me come in, Ven thought, so far so good. The vestibule itself was in shadow, but the hallway was well lit. I should be able to move across it, I'm almost invisible. Knowing full well that being almost invisible was like being almost stabbed through the chest; Ven moved in a wide and very slow arc across the hallway away from the guard and towards the far door.

It took a very long time to make the twelve foot journey, more time than Ven had allotted for the whole heist, but he reached the door and beached it with as much care as he was capable of. He was now in a brightly lit, well appointed sitting room that had one marvelous feature: it was empty.

The room was posh, as in this-is-_her_-room-posh. Ven made a mental note to dig whoever built this castle up and shake his hand for putting the royal quarters so near the front door. He knew that his time was short now, but he couldn't help himself from rifling thought all the assorted boxes, desks and chests that were arrayed around the perimeter of the room. In one corner sat a table with two chairs, a pewter bowl of apples sat in the middle. Ven helped himself to a bite and with swallowing came the realization that he was now truly a thief. _I'd better get to work before I get caught, going down in history as the 'Apple Bandit' isn't the kind of legacy I'd like to leave._

There were two ways out of the sitting room, other then the way he came in, a small staircase led up a few steps, and there was a door against the west wall. Rather then risk another "who's on the other side of the door" situation, Ven moved up the stairs, hugging the wall.

The countess's bedroom was the most lavishly appointed room Ven had been in since he was tricked into busting up that phony prostitute/bandit ring. _Hey_, Ven thought, _I got them busted for doing something not to dissimilar from what I'm doing now. Maybe I should apologize. That happened not too far from here; I'll bet they're still this castle's dungeon._

The many jewels that Ven had seen the Countess wear were arrayed in a number of display cases. The locks of which were no match for Ven's cursed finger. A couple of nice silver vases and rare books completed the haul. Ven was proud of himself, looking at each piece's gem shine in the candlelight, and felt proud of himself as his designated loot sack got heavier and heavier.

Feeling confident, Ven jaunted back down the small staircase, assured at his isolation. He was untouchable, uncatchable, a master thief in the making to rival that so-called Grey Fox. Then the door to the hall began to open.

Ven had never covered such a short distance that fast in his life. At the bottom of the short staircase there was a corner darkened with shadow, the translucent form of Ven Moonslayer darted into its confines so fast he almost overshot it. Ven hunched down and held his breath like a Khajiit in a bathtub. The door fully opened and two figures entered the room, the Countess herself, and the single biggest man Ven had ever seen. _This is not happening, _he thought. The guard was carrying a mace whose head was larger then a pumpkin and looked like some insane weapon-smith spent a week thinking only "how can I make this hurt more?"

The pair was chatting about something, Ven could hear them, but he wasn't listening, all he could hear was the sound that mace would make against his skull if they found him here. The Countess let out a small, polite yawn and the pair began to walk towards the stairs, right next to where Ven was hiding. _They haven't seen me. They haven't seen me. They haven't seen me. _He repeated to himself. _But they will see all of those empty and open display cases._

This is not good; I've got to get out of here, now. The countess, and that orc-human hybrid guy, were closing in with every step. And just before she would have ran right into Ven, she turned towards the stairs. That's when Ven saw it. Tucked into a gold sash around her waist was a silver dagger with hand crafted gold inlay in a scabbard studded with emeralds. Before Ven could convince himself that it was a good idea to ignore it, he had reached out and taken it right off of her person.

_What have I done? _Ven felt his heart stop until he realized that the Countess didn't notice. _Nine Divines, I've got to get out of here_. Ven knew he had about six seconds before the guard noticed the break in and all Oblivion broke loose. There were two ways out, the door to the hall and the guard it took an hour to get past and the door on the west wall which went who knows where. The choice was easy.

_Don't be a closet. Don't be a closet. Don't be a closet._ Ven closed his eyes and slipped though the unlocked door. He was met be a cold wind, and when he opened his eyes he realized that he was outside. _A balcony, great…the only dead end that's also forty feet off the ground._

Ven looked around to confirm how much of a tight spot he was in_, it could be worse_, he thought just before the alarm was raised in the castle_. Ok, relax for a second; thieves think laterally, there is a way out of this._ Ven looked up at the smooth surface of the castle. _Going up would just strand me further, if I could even get up there. What about down_? Ven rushed to the edge of the balcony and found that it looked out over the bay, forty feet up and ten feet back from the shore.

Ven had made up his mind, now all he had to do was convince the rest of him. _ Well, I've have a good life, no, I mean, I can make this! _Ven backed up to the wall and darted towards the edge, put one foot on a crenellation, and flung himself out into the ether.

A little over a second later Ven hit the cold waters of the bay like a 55 year old sack of rocks. Regaining his senses underwater, Ven pulled himself to the far shore and lay in the grass, shivering. _I should have grabbed a towel._

_The End_


End file.
